


Pragma

by Theothermrsblankett



Category: Carol (2015)
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, carol au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theothermrsblankett/pseuds/Theothermrsblankett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Therese, finishing up her time at college, meets Carol; a divorcing art curator, just blown in from NYC to bring this small town to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Moved over from Fanfiction. Enjoy, my darlings.

The city was lined with lights, each lamp post garnished with a snowflake or red holly. Therese dragged her feet through the powdered snow on the ground. Her company, Danny, peered into shop windows while he chatted casually. Christmas music was faint beneath the layered tones of cars driving past and people talking. The ginger tapping of heels on the slick ground wafted by Therese every so often as brave women filtered past her. Their pink cheeks and heavy coats held onto Therese’s gaze.  
The General Store on the corner had three Christmas trees that year, each decorated in reds and golds, sparkling romantically under in the dim shop. Therese tugged on Danny’s arm and they crept up the steps.

“Wow,” said Therese. “These trees are beautiful.”

A woman at the cash register, a big old brass 19th century hunk of metal, smiled fondly and waved. “Hi-ya Therese, Danny!” Dimpled cheeks met the woman’s equally happy look as Therese approached her and Danny followed.

“You like what we’ve done this year?” The woman was in her seventies at the least, with bright hazel eyes and coifed silver hair.

“Oh, very much, Ms. Jane,” Therese replied.

“Really great,” Danny said.

Ms. Jane had been there since Therese and Danny were kids. They used to come in for the penny candy, having to stand on the little wooden stool to peer over the glass. Ms. Jane would always slip them an extra piece of candy, a small token from a widowed woman who never had any grandchildren. Half of their candy would make it down to the beach, where they would sit and make trades, fending off the seagulls and watched Lake Huron lap at the shore.

The lake was frozen now for miles, and in place of the candy, Ms. Jane confidently handed them each a glass of wine.

“To keep you warm,” she offered. “Just act like you’re 21 and bring back my glasses when shops start shutting down the walk.” She winked.

Therese and Danny promised, winking back. Every Christmas, main street was alive for one night in December. Alongside the bars, all the shops stayed open late into the evening handing out hot chocolate and wine. People laughed and danced down the street, carrying around roasted chestnuts under their arms.

“Oh,” Ms. Jane continued, “be sure to go down to the SmoothWater’s Gallery and Cafe. They’ve got a new curator and she’s made it beautiful this year.”

Therese and Danny headed back down the steps and turned to go down toward the gallery. SmoothWaters had gone through more owners than Therese could count, always losing out in the small town. It was almost too classy for the small corner of Michigan it was placed in, but it brought an element of culture that kept new owners coming in and out, trying to make it worth something.

The fairy lights were mellow and twinkled across the warmed red brick walkway, weaving through the black wrought-iron that made up the low fence, separating the outdoor cafe lounge from the sidewalk. The entrance to the gallery was tucked away, beyond a fountain that was wrapped in lights for the holiday season. The building itself was interconnected to the cafe, a small alley tunnel nestled between the two with multiple doorways and multiple entrances. In the distance down the street, the frozen lake was a mild blue.

Clutching their wines and giggling, Therese and Danny headed toward the gallery. The place was flooded with people, the silent ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ on their faces giving away their liquored demeanors. Therese sidled up to Danny, slinking her arm through his as they fell into a comfortable pace.

“So,” Therese began, “how is it going, being home and all? I know you said it had been alright but…”

“Oh I don’t know,” Danny started. “Mom enjoys me being home. She’s got me picking out her tree skirt and baking cookies. I guess that’s her way of letting me know _she_ knows.”

“What about your father?” Therese treaded carefully.  

Danny took a deep inhale, stopping to view a huge floor to ceiling canvas. It was an oil painting, Therese thought, looking at the way colors were layered to create a forest of bright green and white birch trees. It looked a lot like her backyard at home.

“He’s okay,” Danny finally said. “I think… I don’t know what to think. I think I am just sick of the silence, if anything. He treats Angelo really well though.”

Therese leaned her head on his shoulder. “That’s great, Danny… it’s the little things, I suppose.” She gave him a smile and pulled him over to the next painting, encouraging him to sample his wine again. “How is Angelo?”

“He’s great.” Therese loved the way Danny smiled when he said his name. “He’s working back at the Crow and his grandparents are helping him buy a car.”

The Crow was a cafe at the city over, a quiet little place that doubled as a library and sandwich shop. It was everything that Angelo loved in one place, and also some of the things that Danny loved most about him.

“I’m proud of you, Danny,” said Therese.

Danny chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Hey, bringing home anyone to meet the family is tough business, just you wait. You’re next.”

Therese lifted her glass to her lips again, red wine sliding past them and warming her body. She turned from Danny’s embrace to see what the commotion was behind them.

Therese saw the woman before the woman saw her. Therese observed her, unable to look away. The large warm gallery now seemed suffocating. Leaning on a counter, a tall woman with grey eyes was watching people converse around her. A small smile lifted at the corner of her mouth, the same way her blond eyebrow lifted in intrigue. Sweeping across her body, Therese followed the soft hem of the sweetheart neckline that scooped into her chest. The fitted garment fell to the woman’s calves, creamy skin appearing and then disappearing into suede black shoe boots.

Therese knew immediately that she was the new curator. The angled features of her face and her lanky body had not come from the midwest where Therese had lived most of her life.

When their eyes met, the woman didn’t blink, but smiled politely and straightened out her posture. Therese could hear herself counting in her head; _One. An appropriate length. Two. You’re lingering. Three. She’s lingering look away. Four. You have to look away. Five._

Danny said something to her and she didn’t register, but it pulled Therese out of her reverie. The gray eyes, the color of the frozen lake, were burned into her occipital lobe and she couldn’t differentiate between the dizziness from the wine and the fuzzy feeling of prolonged exposure to the woman.

“Therese?”

She heard him this time. “Sorry, Danny.”

“It’s not like you to not hold your alcohol.”

Therese said nothing and Danny was too caught up in the next painting.

“Hey, you ok here by yourself? I need to run to the bathroom,” Danny said.

Therese nodded. “Cool as a cucumber.” She turned back towards the painting, admiring the smaller piece in watercolor, a clear adaptation of the street the gallery was on. Her eyes glazed over, seeing the mystery woman’s eyes in every shade of blue hued gray.

“I like this one, too.”

Therese felt the heat of someone standing near her and almost didn’t look up. She knew, without a doubt that the soft deep voice was _her_.

Their eyes met again.

“Don’t you?”

“Yes, very much.” Therese bobbed her head. “I’m quite fond of watercolor.”

“You should see this woman’s other works, then. She’s a local here and her painting is exquisite.”

“So you’re the new curator then.” Therese’s eyes wandered to the woman’s silver earrings.

“I am,” she said. “Carol.” She held out her hand for Therese to shake, and she did so.

Carol’s hands were warm and soft, slender and elegant as the rest of her body.

“And your name?”

“Oh sorry, Therese Belivet.” She stood up straight.

Carol’s eyes pulled at the corners, looking at Therese amusingly. “Therese Belivet.” The name rolled out of her mouth like the tumble of a gentle wave on the shore. “You sound ready for an interview.”

It was a joke, of course, but Therese’s cheeks began to burn.

“I’ve been interviewing in the city for an internship all semester. It’s made me more formal by default, I’m afraid.” Therese let her shoulders fall as Carol leaned all of her weight onto one leg.

“An internship? And what for, _Therese Belivet_ ,” she teased.

“Well, photography, mostly, but I am trying to work in newspapers, before they go completely out of business.”

Carol sighed. “That’s refreshing.”

They stood in silence for a moment and Therese could feel the heat of Carol’s body sinking into her shoulder as they stood arm to arm. After a moment of silence Carol leaned in.

“Well, looks like your friend is coming back. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. Come back sometime.”

Therese said thank you, watching Carol walk away, saying her name under her breath. She saw Danny from the corner of her eye.

“Hey, is she the curator?”

“Yeah. Carol.” She lingered on her name.

They sat outside on the edge of the fountain, finishing off their wine and laughing under the moonlight. Therese’s pounding heart had calmed once she left the gallery. The night was starting to slip away, and soon all the shops would be closing up. They had been watching people leave the until just a small group remained inside.

Danny and Therese were about to get up when Carol and her entourage breezed out of the gallery and started down the street, completely unaware of their bystanders. Danny was busy wrapping his scarf around his neck to notice Therese. She was staring as Carol walked away, her long taupe coat embellished with a fur hood seemed to trail behind her as she walked down the brick road, heels echoing in hollow clacks.

“We should get these glasses back to Ms. Jane,” Therese offered, and they started down the same sidewalk again, walking away from the gallery and away from the water. Therese stared at her feet while they walked, counting her steps and avoiding cracks.

“Hey, what’s this?” Danny stopped to bed down and picked something shiny up from the walkway. He held it out in his hand. “It’s an earing.”

Therese looked at it. It was a a light chandelier, silver earring with intricate embellishments pounded in. It was Carol’s. She studied it a minute longer, feeling the need to protect herself.

“That’s Carol’s, I think. She had earrings like that on.”

Danny dropped it into her hand. “Well, you’ll be down here more than I will. Return it to her.” He shrugged.

Therese slipped her hand in her pocket, fondling the delicate piece in her hand the rest of the walk. She moved in closer to Danny.

“You cold, Therese?”

“Yeah, so cold I can’t think straight.”

     

  


Therese woke up to bright sunshine. It was incredible to her, to feel the warm sun filter in across her face and warm the bridge of her nose. She slid her arms from under the covers, feeling stifled by the heat. She smiled.

She loved winter and Christmastime, but she hated the lack of natural light. Michigan was so dreary when the sun didn’t shine. Everything was gray and sullen. It did nothing for her mood. She would wake up in the morning for class, wrapped in a blanket, and just sit at the end of her bed and scowl. Whenever the sun did peep out, Therese’s mouth would pull at one corner before she even opened her eyes.

She looked around at the familiar room. Whenever there was a break, Therese went home with her college friend, Genevieve. The tall girl with dark curly hair had sat next to her in a theatre production class, asking Therese everyday if she could borrow a pencil until Therese started pulling one out to hand to her before she asked. Once Genevieve, or Gi as Therese called her, learned that she had nowhere decent to go on breaks, she invited Therese along with her. They were close, but Therese kept her at arm's length. There was something intrusive about the way Gi looked at her and talked to her. It made Therese weary of sharing too many secrets for fear of what Gi might say in response.

What Therese did tell her was about her past. She talked about her mother, how they lived just the two of them, but never really talked. Therese was kept in an all girls boarding school for her entire school career. When it came to college, her mother willingly handed over any and all information, but insisted that all loans be taken out in Therese’s name. Therese didn’t mind, though. She didn’t want to be in debt to her mother, in any way. She didn’t know her well enough for that. So Therese went her own way, sending cards to her mother on her birthday and holidays. By her third year in college, she had stopped receiving any reply until around February when it was time to apply for Federal Aid money again.

Therese laid in dark purple sheets, staring out the window at the residential street. Gi lived in a town just over from where she grew up. The sun reflected off the street sign on the corner and lit the soft grey walls of the room. She looked over at the bedside table. Carol’s earring was shining brilliantly in the warm light. Reaching across the empty space, took in in her hand and stared at it. She would have to get Danny to take her back to the gallery to deliver it. He was heading over to take her out for coffee anyway.

She leaned over the side of the bed, pulling her backpack out and rifled through it for a pen and paper. On it, she wrote: _I believe this is your earring from the other night, during the citywalk. We talked briefly at the gallery about that watercolor painting. I found this on the street. Have a lovely holiday season. ~ Therese Belivet_

She would have to ask Gi’s mother for an envelope.

  


Therese sat at the bar in the kitchen, listening as Gi and her mother playfully bickered with one another over breakfast. The two of them had no shame in name calling each other names and yelling and cackling, even at nine in the morning. Therese could only sit and watch, smiling at their antics. Sometimes, Genevieve would rile up her mother and then turn to smirk at Therese. Therese would smile back, feeling her heart flutter a little at the excitement and at the mischief in which Gi would smile. Therese was never able to pinpoint what that meant exactly.

Therese was confused about a lot of things. Even though she had decided on a career path, she questioned it everyday. She wasn’t sure where she belonged or what she really wanted. All her life she had made snap decisions only because there wasn’t any time to be slow about it. She rushed through her life, and now she didn’t really know where she stood. All she knew was the feeling in the pit of her stomach that happened at random it seemed, and there was no distinction between it and nervousness.

“Therese, would you like some french toast?” Gi’s mother, when she wasn’t yelling after Gi, was a sweet woman. Therese never felt out of place in her home. It was way more comfortable than any weekend spent with her own mother, and she was always so well taken care of.

“Yes, please. Thank you,” Therese said.

Gi plopped down at the barstool next to her, drowning her french toast in syrup. “What’s in the plans today, Belivet?”

“Coffee with Danny, and then some writing. I’ve got assignments due at the end of break.”

Gi seemed a bit distant, slicing through her breakfast with a fork and bringing it to her mouth. Therese could see the pout before her mouth opened. “Sounds fun,” was all she said.

Therese turned back to her own food. “I’ll have time for a movie, though, later tonight?”

Gi smiled again. “Alright, I can get with that. Besides, I thought I might go see Richard.”

Therese swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Well,” Gi began, pushing her food around, “he’s lonely and -”

“And he will buy you lunch,” Therese finished for her.

“I like lunch.”

“But you don’t like him.”

Gi turned to her, her eyes defensively shifting. “I do so!” A pause. “Just… not how he wants me to.”

Therese rolled her eyes.

“Well, what, Terry, it’s not like you’re into him anymore. Besides, he really is decent to talk to and we did go to school together with Jack. We have a lot in common.”

It was true, Therese supposed. But Therese still felt protective of him. She had unknowingly strung him along for a whole year, convinced that she liked him before calling it off out of frustration. He kept pressuring to move in with her and she just wasn’t ready. And each time he slept over she felt more distant, no matter how tight he held her.

Richard had been introduced to her by Genevieve. She had gone to school with him and his friend Jack. Jack was friends with Danny and his older brother Phil. How Therese never met Richard or Genevieve until college was beyond her. When she was introduced to Richard, it seemed he was the only person interested in her. He asked her out, she said yes, plain and simple.

He was always in love with Gi, though. At at the end of the day, when she looked him in the eye and said she wasn’t in love with him, he seemed to hold back. He wasn’t as upset as she had thought he would be. He told her that maybe he was lying to himself, too. It was better for everyone involved, including Gi who seemed bitter whenever the three of them were in the same place. Therese assumed that Gi had feelings for Richard, but she would never say it. When Richard was single and Gi still didn’t go after him, Therese was only confused more.

So now, here they all were. Genevieve was using Richard for free food and conversation and there was nothing she could really do about it. She was sure to hear about it from Danny as well. Gossip was sure to travel down the sticky web connection of friends. At least coffee this morning would be unusually interesting.

  
  


Danny picked up Therese, behind schedule as always. Therese constantly joked with him, telling him he was perpetually a day late and a dollar short. She had no idea how he managed deadlines in his college work but it gave her anxiety to ask, so she didn’t.

For coffee, Danny drove them to The Crow, where Angelo worked. Therese was happy about the change in scenery. The quaint little town was on the water and they would see the river from the top floor of the coffee shop. Beyond that, she knew that Angelo would be working and she didn’t get to see him often.

“Do you two need another minute, or are you ready to order?” The waitress looked between them.

Therese looked at Danny with apologetic eyes.

“We will need another minute,” he said for her.

The waitress walked away. “Therese, it’s coffee, there are only so many options.”

“Well, there’s hot or cold, strong or weak, plain or latte, whip or no whip. There’s endless possibilities, Danny.” Therese looked at him very seriously before lifting her mouth into a smile.

By the time their waitress had come around again, Therese was ready, but changed her mind last minute, ordering tea instead of coffee altogether. That’s when Angelo appeared.

Angelo walked toward them with a huge smile as Danny stood to hug him. Angelo ruffled his hair a little and then pulled himself a chair to sit in.

He placed a hand on Therese’s shoulder. “Heya, lady. How’ve you been, hm?”

“Fine, just fine. Surviving.”

“Oh you and Danny make a perfect match, so melodramatic.”

Angelo’s words always had a bite, but he looked at Therese so kindly that she never took it personally. She smirked at their held hands on the table. She never knew someone who could tease so hard, all while holding his lover's hand and thumbing it affectionately.

They caught up, each reliving horror stories of their second to last semester of college, laughing at the amount of laziness with which they all managed to push through. They all agreed that once you made it to your senior year of college you were too exhausted to even pretend you wanted to be there anymore.

“Hey, Therese, what’s with the envelope?” Danny asked.

Therese hadn’t realized she’d been fondling the envelope with the earring and message for Carol.

“Well, since we are out I figured we could head your way and return Carol’s earring.”

Angelo’s face twisted. “Who’s Carol?”

“She’s the new curator for SmoothWater’s gallery,” Danny explained.

“OH, oh! Carol Aird, of course! That woman’s name is getting around. She breezed in from New York or something. Heard she’s battling a grizzly divorce.” Angelo’s eyebrows lifted.

Therese watched as Angelo and Danny went back and forth talking, but all she could think about was Carol. She was divorcing? Angelo had used the word grizzly. She thought about that night she had seen her, how put together she was, how calm she was. It always amazed Therese when people were going through trauma but it never showed. Carol seemed so… special. She was independent, intelligent, artistic. Therese couldn’t figure out what would make someone want to divorce her.

  
  


Danny dropped Therese off in front of the gallery while he went to fill up his gas tank. Therese was glad for that as well, feeling like she wanted to deliver the message herself. She was pulling the envelope out of her purse when she saw a flash of blonde from behind one of the gallery windows. Therese would have to improvise, so she tore to envelope open and put the earring in her hand.

The door made a soft tinkling sound as she opened it and two heads whipped around to greet her. Carol smiled brightly. The woman beside her had mahogany colored hair and an intense stare. Her eyes were nearly black.

“Hello,” said Carol, walking toward her.

“Hi,” said Therese. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m-”

“Therese. Of course I remember.” Carol smiled again. She turned and motioned to the other woman. “This is Abby, my dear friend. She came all this way to help run this place while I curate.”

Therese bowed her head a little and smiled to Abby. The woman continued to stare, but her eyes softened and her teeth flashed in a brief smile.

“What brings you in,” Abby asked.

“Well, actually, I wanted to return something to Carol.”

Carol looked at Therese, her gaze burning directly through her, just as radiant as the sun that was still shining. “Return what?”

Therese placed her hand out to Carol. “I think this is your earring. It was on the ground after the citywalk.”

Carol took the earring, immediately sure that it was hers. “Oh thank you! I thought this was gone forever.” She looked at Therese again. “You didn’t have to bring this all the way back here. Or do you live nearby?”

“I live a city or so over, but my friend lives here. It’s no big deal, really.”

Therese watched as Abby disappeared into the back of the gallery, leaving them alone.

“They are real silver you know, I really thought I lost them. Will you let me repay you, please? Do you have any time? I could buy you a coffee or something just next door.”

Therese felt her heart rate increasing. “You really don’t have-”

“It’s the least I can do.” Carol looked at her, a small smile playing about her lips and she stood tall. Therese couldn’t say no.

“Alright.”

Texting Danny her current situation, she walked through the alley and into the coffee shop, following close behind Carol. The sway of her hips as she walked was hypnotic and Therese wondered how she did it. She walked over ice without slipping, regardless of the thin black heels on her feet.

“What would you like,” Carol asked. She referenced to the overhead menu.

Here it was again, another panicky moment for Therese to make a split decision.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Therese smiled.

“Well,” Carol began, “that’s that. Why don’t you go find us a table.”

Therese sat down at a table for two by the window. It was a secluded little spot, but she could watch and faintly hear as Carol ordered, her low voice seeming to bounce gently off of the dark woods within the coffee shop.

When she returned, she was balancing two drinks and pastries on a wooden tray.

“I’m much for black coffee but something tells me you’re more of a sweet and cinnamon kind of gal.” Carol set the tray down. “As for snacks you have no choice because the glazed donuts here are the best and I won’t hear anything different.”

Therese smiled. There was an easy feeling between them, even though Therese’s face was feeling hot and her pulse rapid. If she had ever been confused about attraction, she was not confused now. This woman’s perfume was circling her and Therese wanted nothing more than to succumb to those dizzying circles and collapse into the woman’s neck, right at the source.

“I think it’s your perfume I smell… it’s nice,” Therese managed to say.

“Carol looked straight at her. “Oh, well thank you. Harge bought it for me, before we were married. I haven’t changed it.”

Who was Harge, she wondered. “Is Harge your husband?”

“Yes, well, he was. We’re separated, soon to be divorced.” Carol said it flatly.

“I’m sorry.”

Carol smiled. “Don’t be, I’m not.”

They both looked out the window then, watching snow fall lightly. Carol was the first to speak again.

“What about you? Was that a date last night?”

Carol was very forward, but it was thrilling, Therese decided. She cut right to the chase. “Danny? Oh no, he’s my best friend. Definitely not into me. I remain single.”

“Really?” Carol seemed surprised.

“Well there was Richard, but that didn’t work out. I’m not decisive enough.”

“How so?”

“Well,” said Therese, feeling her cheeks growing hotter, “I can’t even decide what to order at a coffee shop.”

As they finished up, Therese peered down at her watch.

“I haven’t made you late for something, have I?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. What about you?”

“No. Abby doesn’t mind.” Carol took her last sip of coffee. “Do you have a ride home?”

Therese pulled out her phone. “I just have to call Danny.”

“Are you sure, I wouldn’t mind driving you.” Therese wondered if she could ever say no to this woman. She would have to try.

“No no, I am twenty miles in the city over, much too far away.”

“Nonsense! I am new in town and I don’t really know what else is here besides this little area. Plus, Abby really won’t mind.”

Therese couldn’t argue with that. ‘Well, alright then.”

The walk to her car seemed nonexistent and before Therese could catch up with her heart, Carol was turning her car at the stoplight and heading out of town.

Her car was spacious with tan interior and mildly tinted mirrors. It was a mercedes, a classy car, and just what Therese would have expected. She didn’t expect the minute smell of smoke, but when Carol cracked her window and lit up, it seemed almost obvious.

“Oh I should have asked, is this alright?”

Therese nodded. “I don’t mind.”

“I should quit, you know? My daughter Rindy… she makes me feel so guilty and I really should just do it, for her at least.”

“You have a daughter?” Therese was surprised.

“I do. She’s four. She’s with our nanny right now while Harge and I work. His business brought him out here so I had to move in order to keep up to the custody agreement.”Carol took a long drag on her cigarette and blew it out the window. “She’s wonderful though, absolutely wonderful.”

Therese was quiet, content in listening to Carol talk about her life. She talked calmly about Rindy and Harge, giving faint details about the divorce, but nothing too personal. Therese looked out at the road stretched ahead of them and felt as if there were endless possibilities. She felt safe.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

Carol tilted her head back and laughed. “Yes, you. I’ve chewed up ten miles worth of time and you haven’t said a word.” Carol puffed again. “Are you staying with your parents?”

“No, with my friend, Genevieve.”

“Surely you’ll go home to your family for Christmas?”

Therese sighed. She had the urge to tell Carol everything, but she kept it short like she always did. “It was just me and mother, but she and I were never close. Sent me to boarding school. So I’m on my own now and I come home with Gi - Genevieve - for holiday breaks.”

Carol was quiet for a moment. “So are you not from around here?”

“No, I actually lived about ten minutes from the gallery when I was a child. That’s how I know Danny.”

“I see.” Carol looked on ahead, unblinking. “What do you do on off days?”

Therese thought for a moment. Nothing, she supposed. “Nothing really, and you?”

“The same. I work from home mostly, trying to find artists. I have some really great pieces at home that I think you would really like. Would you be interested in coming over, say on Sunday?”

Therese didn’t even think about it. “Yes.”

“So strange you are, so decisive about the strangest things.”

“What do you mean?” Therese asked, turning to look at her for the first time since she got in the car.

“Just… flung out of space.”

Carol locked eyes for a moment, clearly not afraid of swerving or losing the road.

They both smiled.  


	2. Chapter 2

Sunday mornings were just mornings for Therese. She was never one to particularly enjoy the morning. If she was rising early and caught the sunrise or if she had someplace interesting to be she could hop out of bed, but usually, she had to force herself up.

 This morning was a toss up. Carol was coming to pick her up around ten, and that excited her, but she laid in bed for a few minutes deliberating about the day. She wanted to see Carol, but the woman made her stupidly nervous.

 She thought about Carol. Carol probably loved Sunday mornings, but hated mornings otherwise. Therese imagined her curled up in bed with a cup of hot coffee, black coffee as Therese had learned, and maybe a book. What books were on her night table, Therese wondered and began to blush, thinking that she could definitely see Carol biting her lip with bright eyes, her nose buried deep in some tasteful romance novel. Therese groaned.

 She went about her morning routine, splashing her face with cold water to wake herself up and slipped into a green sweater and black leggings. She ran a comb through her short hair, adjusted her bangs, and swiped on mascara. She stared at herself in the mirror, remembering how Carol had winked at her as she exited her car a few days prior. Therese winked at herself, trying to mimic the flawless way Carol had done it, but failed and smiled. Only Carol could do something like that.

 She waited by the door, bypassing breakfast. It was quiet. Gi and her family had plans for brunch that morning with her mother’s side and Therese was happy to have an excuse not to go. Holidays were for families, she thought, and she didn't really belong in theirs anyhow.

The sun was brilliant coming in through the window and dancing across the oak floor of the dining room. Rooney, the slinky little black cat was rolling on a patch of light and her green eyes looked as dazzling as the ornaments that hung on the Christmas tree.

 Carol’s car honked, startling Therese as she grabbed her purse and locked up the house. She approached the car quickly, not daring to look at Carol until she opened the door and slid inside. She was hit with Carol’s perfume and had forgotten how the scent tickled her nose and went straight to her lungs and squeezed before relaxing and becoming a comfort.

 Carol looked just as perky as she had expected, but remained calm. She murmured a good morning and made light comments about the weather. Therese could only smile and nod in agreement. It was only 10:15 and Therese hoped each minute would continue as torturously slow as they had when she waited for her in anticipation.  

 “I can’t believe how sunny it is this morning. These past few days, even. I was told the sun doesn’t shine here for months at a time,” Carol said.

 Therese nodded. “For the most part. It’s unusual, most definitely. I much rather prefer autumn; when it’s cool but the skies are bright and clear. I wish Spring were the same way.”

 Carol frowned. “Are you telling me my birthday here will be gloomy?”

 “When is your birthday?”

 “May,” Carol breathed. “May 20th.”

 “You’ll be close enough to June…” Therese trailed off. She was thinking about Carol in May with blossoming lilac trees and hydrangeas, a glass of iced tea in her left hand and a cigarette in the other. She looked over at her. She wasn’t sure which Carol she would like better; that one, or the Carol who was bundled up in a fur coat. Where did she even get one, Therese wondered. No one would dare to wear anything like that where she was from and here Carol was donning the article like a second skin.

 “I’ll be turning 30 you know,” Carol said suddenly.

 Therese’s eyes widened. “Is that all?”

 Carol took her eyes off the road to soak up the shock on Therese’s face. She laughed. “What, do I look old to you?”

 “No, no. You just… you seem older, somehow.”

 “Well, I have been through more than most my age I suppose. My divorce will be finalized before I reach my birthday and I have a four year old child. A lot of life has happened in ten years time.”

 Therese said nothing. She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She was still perplexed by this woman. Only nine years older than herself but she felt miles away as far as actual life experience. Then again, everyone she ever met thought she was older as well. It was easy to forget how much life she had been through when she had spent so much time learning to forget about it.

 “What about you, when is your birthday?” Carol slowed down to a stop at a four way, glancing over before lurching the car forward again.

 “Oh, September 18th.”

 “I see.” Carol smirked. “And you just turned, what, 22, 23?”

 Therese smiled all the way to her eyes. “I just turned 20, actually.”

 Carol didn’t even seemed phased. She shrugged and nodded. “Well, we both just seem older then, how about that.”

 “I take it as a compliment.”

 “As do I.”

  
When they arrived at Carol’s house Therese was wide eyed and smiling. It was huge and white, a two story with a giant wrap around porch reminiscent of southern plantation homes. The gardens were barren, but there were welcoming lights wrapped around the guard rail that were already turned on and glowing. Carol exited the car and Therese followed, still staring in wonder at all the windows.

 “C’mon slowpoke,” Carol chided.

 The inside of her home was as lovely as the outside. There was the occasional box laying on the floor and tucked away into a corner waiting to be unpacked. She had a Christmas tree up in the main living area, decorated in all gold and crystal white lights. The tree skirt was deep red with gold beading. There were a few presents under the tree addressed Rindy. Must be her daughter, Therese pondered. There was another present addressed to Abby, the woman that Therese had met at the gallery. There was nothing under the tree addressed to Carol.

 “Can I offer you anything to drink? To eat?”

 Therese politely declined. She was far too nervous to eat. Under her fur coat, Carol was wearing a long sleeve black shirt that scooped low on her chest. A small gold chain with a tiny charm hung loosely around her neck. Her nails were still manicured in coral without a chip since she last saw her, but her hair was straighter. Sipping coffee from a white mug, she was the most elegant thing in the room no matter how expensive the leather sofas were.

 “Feel free to show yourself around. It’s not as big as it looks on the outside,” Carol sighed.

 Therese smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. I think my whole apartment could fit inside your house.”

 “Isn’t that part of the charm, though?” Carol asked. “A place this big feels awfully lonely when it’s just you.”

 “You need a pet,” Therese offered. She watched as Carol took a sip of coffee and pondered.

“Yes… I could get a pet. I’m sure Rindy would love that. Something sturdy, though. She’s mildly rambunctious so I suppose a cat would be too frail and… well, cold, to be quite frank.”

 “So, a dog?” Therese proposed.

 “Oh, I suppose that is the only other option, really. Well, I’ll have to think about that.”

 Therese sat down on the other side of the couch. Carol eyed her.

 “What’s in the bag, Therese?”

 //

  
A million suns wouldn’t have burned brighter or hotter than Therese’s face as Carol sifted through her work. They had ended up on the ground with her photographs surrounding them in a semi circle. Carol was fascinated, if not hyper after three cups of coffee. Therese was feeling lightheaded but still couldn’t gather if that was the lack of food or the proximity to Carol that was causing her to feel so swimmy. Nevertheless, she was delighted. She thought how lovely it would be if in that moment she could pass out on the floor across from Carol and never wake up.

 “You must be hungry by now, no?” Carol was leaning against the sofa, absently running a hand over her stomach. She must be a mindreader, Therese idled.

 “I suppose I am.”

 Carol got up and stretched with cat like grace. “Well, that’s that. We are going to FreshWater’s Cafe and then I can show you the stuff I wanted to show you in the gallery. I ended up moving them there…” She trailed off, looking down at her phone. Therese watched as her bright smile faded and she turned her back. “Right, so. I’ll go start the car then.”

 Therese immediately hated her mood. Carol was one of those people who could flip flop attitudes at the drop of a hat with absolutely no warning. Therese wasn’t feeling targeted but she could sense Carol’s anxiety and mild anger, and it worried her. She didn’t want to be another source of irritation for her.

 When they got in the car, Carol hadn’t asked if it was ok to smoke like she did the first time; she simply lit up and began to back out of her driveway. That didn’t bother Therese either, really. She didn’t mind the smoking, but she turned to look out the window feeling a tad hurt nonetheless.

 The drive was silent but for the radio on low. Therese had made the same drive hundreds of times and on this particular time it was the longest and most sullen drive.

Seated at the cafe, Carol lightened up again. Therese wanted so badly to ask her what had been wrong, or what was wrong, rather. Therese wanted to know a lot of things, she supposed. Like why was she spending her time off with a girl who wasn’t even old enough to drink? Why is her big house so lonely? Why the fuck weren’t there any presents under the tree for her? But instead, she just looked across the table as Carol patted her mouth with a napkin and blushed when Carol looked back.

 The gallery in the back was every bit as interesting as in the front. Walking next to Carol, the colors began to bleed, watercolor splashing across the pale surface of her skin. The sunset pinks and gold wove into her hair, blue swimming through the ends. Therese was mesmerized by the paintings of mermaids whose scales twinkled in Carol’s eyes and when the woman spoke, Therese heard the voice of sirens pulling her in closer. Staring up at an eight foot canvas, Therese silently pleaded for it to fall and crush them both and to entrap them in the dream like picture of the sea; Therese as a lost fisher and Carol the siren who swims away with her remains.

 “You like this one?”

 Therese couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. She shook her head before turning to move in closer. “I will never understand how watercolor works, but it sure is beautiful. I mean, the color usage is just, well I have never seen anything like it.”

 “It’s quite fun, really,” Carol admitted. “You should try it, you might be surprised.” When Therese said nothing, she rolled her eyes. Therese saw her, though and her mouth twitched.

 "C’mon,” Carol ushered her towards the back. “Let’s paint.”

 It took Carol five minutes to set them up at her art table. She set out paper towel, cups of water, and two pieces of watercolor paper. Therese watched her move toward a paint tray and gasped at how many colors, and how used, the tray looked.

 “You paint?” Carol looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “No, I mean, you’re an artist, too? Besides curating?”

 Carol nodded. “I am.”

 So sure of herself, Therese thought. She owned a camera but could barely call herself a photographer.  

 "What do you paint?” Therese asked.

 Carol ignored her question and handed her a paint brush. “The trick to watercolor is, not shockingly, water. The most water you saturate your brush with, the more paint you pick up, however, add more and more water, and you dilute the pigment.” Carol demonstrated, dipping her brush first into water, holding it over a beautiful shade of maroon to let water drop onto the hardened surface, then swirled the brush. With one long stroke she dragged the dark color across the page, then dipped back into the water and repeated to create a much lighter version of the color. “You try.”

 Therese looked on at the colors and then decidedly held her wet brush over a forest green. She imitated Carol the best she could, receving similar results.

 “Good, now you can layer colors to create new colors and shades.” Carol took a brighter red and dragged it between her two lines, creating two new colors where they intersected.

 Bolder, Therese went on ahead before Carol finished. She dipped her brush back into water before taking it to an aquamarine and creating splendid shades of teals and blue greens. She lost herself for a moment until she glanced over at Carol, who with head cocked to the side was gracefully stroking her brush in arcs to create wispy flowers.

 “How do you do that?” Therese asked.

 “Well,” Carol started. “The pressure you put on the brush can affect color as well as brush stroke size.”

 Therese took what she said, but wasn’t quite able to demonstrate it as well. She bit her lip in frustration.

 “Like this.” Carol’s hand reached over to hers, guiding, applying pressure, and moving Therese’s hand to create leaves and vines. Her hand was moving but Therese almost couldn’t believe it was her own body. She felt electrified, but calm; anxious, but excited. She couldn’t look to see what Carol was doing because she could only stare at their hands, the point of contact. So when Carol asked her what she thought, all Therese could say was “beautiful.”

 And then it was over, soon as it had began. Therese wanted to believe that she had seen Carol take a deep breath but just as quickly assumed she was willing her imagination to believe it. They carried on painting, Therese making less than satisfactory leaves, and Carol making flowers more brilliant than before.         

 Therese asked is she could keep her flowers. Carol simply handed them off to her like they were nothing.

 When Therese returned home, she traced her fingers over those flowers and smiled. On the back she wrote, “All flowers deserve sunshine” and the date.

      

  
    


End file.
